


Breathless Revenge

by Cartadwarfwithaheartofgold (manka), TightAssets



Series: How to Win a Losing Hand: One-Shots from the Love Story of Varric Tethras and Maria Cadash (Canon Dragon Age Setting) [10]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Background Relationships, Blow Jobs, Coitus Interruptus, Cullen Rutherford/Female Trevelyan - Freeform, Digital Art, Exhibitionism, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Male Hawke/Female Lavellan - Freeform, NSFW Art, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rough Kissing, Rough Oral Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-22
Updated: 2020-10-22
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:22:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27150379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/manka/pseuds/Cartadwarfwithaheartofgold, https://archiveofourown.org/users/TightAssets/pseuds/TightAssets
Summary: Varric Tethras is thrown to the Orlesians as a distraction so his fiery girlfriend can sneak around the palace in a sinfully ridiculous gown.He has a lot of opinions about the fairness of that.
Relationships: Female Cadash/Varric Tethras, Maria Cadash/Varric Tethras - Relationship
Series: How to Win a Losing Hand: One-Shots from the Love Story of Varric Tethras and Maria Cadash (Canon Dragon Age Setting) [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1896694
Comments: 8
Kudos: 25





	Breathless Revenge

**Author's Note:**

> This is a double whammy entry from me and [TightAssets](https://tightassets.tumblr.com/) for [@wickedwithofthewilds](https://wickedwitchofthewilds.tumblr.com/) Kinktober 2020 Prompts and [@scharoux's](https://scharoux.tumblr.com/) [Cozy Autumn Prompts](https://cozy-autumn-prompts.tumblr.com/) event. The prompts are "Blowjob" for Kinktober and "You Take My Breath Away" for Cozy Autumn Prompts. Thank you loves for running the event! And thank you TightAssets for your AMAZING smutty art.
> 
> Also, shoutout to [@charlatron](https://charlatron.tumblr.com/) for letting us borrow and insert her sex positive Olivia Trevelyan into our Kinktober piece!

Varric has been glad to see Maria Cadash on _several_ occasions. That debacle with the giant spiders on the storm coast (Maker, sometimes he still swore he could smell their guts on his favorite armor). Right after Haven fell, when he’d lost her in the panic and been uncertain until he saw Cole pulling her through snow up to her hips. Sleeping in his bed when he awoke that first morning after instead of vanished like smoke.

But he’d never been happier to see the blood red spill of her hair than when she elbowed a comte out of the way with a sharp elbow and a wicked grin. The circle of people around him all wisely took one step back away from the tiny dwarf in the _scandalous_ silver dress.

That blighted dress had been more of a torment than the assembled nobility all damn evening. The thin straps and gauzy silk did _nothing_ to hide her fine dwarven tits from all the guests and very little to disguise the rest of that sinful figure.

Instead of enjoying the view by her side, as he’d intended, he’d been sacrificed as a _distraction_ so she could explore all the hidden nooks and crannies of Halamshiral. Varric hated to complain about fairness, but he had more than a few complaints about his evening. Most of which had to do with what _he_ could have been getting up to with Maria in those secret alcoves and abandoned rooms.

She crossed to his side in a moment, sure hands coming up to straighten the blighted sash on his Inquisition uniform. There was something _carelessly_ intimate in the gesture, something that nearly had him looking to see whether the Merchant’s Guild delegates were watching. But of course, Maria would have checked that.

Should have checked that, anyway. There was a whiff of champagne about her that made him _slightly_ nervous. But there were humans on all sides, a failed assasination and coup, and champagne flowing freely. Who was paying attention to two dwarves right now?

...and thank the Maker for that, because when Maria lifted her eyes from his itchy uniform with all the buttons done up for _decorum_ as Ruffles insisted, there was no hiding the crackling lust in them. Her eyes gave away her intentions crystal clear, even as her silky voice dripped into the silence between them.

“Your expertise on nug wrangling is needed to settle a bet, Varric. Unless you’re still basking in your fans?”

 _Basking_. He has never wanted to wipe that smug grin off her face more.

“I’m all yours, Princess.”

And it was even more stupid to call her that _here_ , in front of Andraste knows who, but nobody seemed to react. Maybe they’d _both_ had too much to drink, maybe they were both dizzy on the feeling of invincibility. The Inquisition, the scrappy little underdog it was, had grown into a force that could make despots dance to it’s tune. And if _that_ was possible…

Maria led him away from his cloying throng of admirers with a firm grip on his arm. His eyes traced the bare expanse of her back hungrily.

Well. If _that_ was possible, maybe lots of other things were too. It wasn’t gonna be the same world when all was said and done. It never would be again.

That _should_ scare the shit out of him.

Instead, all he could focus on was Maria marching him straight through the party with all the steel of an ancient dwarven warrior. The crowd passed in a blur, broken only by the sight of Bull laughing behind his own tiny wine glass, raising it up in a silent salute while a redheaded serving girl leaned up against his broad chest.

Varric could just hear him now, the low, appreciative rumble of the word _redheads_.

Tiny wasn’t wrong on that account.

Maria reached for a door with her free hand and threw it open, ushering him inside a gloomy, disused study. Bookcases lined the wall along with the heads of once glorious trophy kills. A desk sat in the center of the room, a high backed chair behind it that looked surprisingly comfortable.

But before his eyes could adjust further to the dim light of half burnt out lanterns, the door clicked close and Maria threw herself at him.

Like all men, all weak, _weak_ men, he forgot his annoyance at the press of her body to his. She surged desperately for his lips and he allowed himself to be lulled out of his temper by the plush give of her mouth when she slanted it over his.

In fact, with Maria’s tongue darting quickly past his defenses and her nimble fingers undoing buttons faster than Varric’s hammering heartbeat, he could be forgiven for forgetting his own name.

But he was still going to complain. Just a little.

He pulled back, nipping at her bottom lip just to hear the sweet gasp that followed. “Andraste’s _ass_ , Princess. When someone sells me out so thoroughly I expect the blighted _Guild_ to be behind it.”

“I just introduced you to your fans.” She breathed innocently, just about ripping his sash off and discarding it over her shoulder. “You _like_ meeting your fans. Captive audience, right?”

He half wished he had that sash back if only to see how cocky she was when he tied her hands up and got _thorough_ revenge.

“Fans, yes. Orlesians, _no_. And don’t think I didn’t see you shimmying up that lattice either. You threw me to the wolves for a distraction.”

Maria stopped, eyes brimming with mirth, indicating the pretty little dress she was wearing. “And we’re not going to talk about how impressively I scaled the side of the palace in a _dress_?”

“You’re right. Let’s talk about the dress.” Varric reached for her with greedy, grasping hands and tugged her flush against him, rocking against her so she could feel the _difficult_ problem the dress inspired in his trousers. “I hate it.”

“You love it.” She taunted, tipping her chin up defiantly. “You should have seen your face. I thought I was gonna have to pick your jaw up off the floor. No _wonder_ I keep taking all your coin at cards, Serah.”

“Because you cheat.” He reminded her pointedly, slipping one hand around to grab the solid curve of her ass.

She hissed in his ear, tugging his shirt open so she could scratch her nails down the thick hair of his chest. “It’s Wicked Grace, Varric. _Everyone_ cheats. That’s how you win.”

“And we won.” The words almost sounded giddy with relief, the same expression reflected in her stormy eyes. “We _won_ , Princess.”

“All because of your excellent distraction.” She purred, nipping at his jaw. “Maybe you deserve a reward.”

The thought of _that_ was heady, especially when she punctuated it by pressing her curvy little body up against his as solidly as she could. The silk rustled between them, the only blighted barrier to access to all of her, and suddenly Varric knew _exactly_ what he wanted.

“Turn around, beautiful.” Varric whispered, his hands creeping towards the laces holding that damn dress to her form. “I want this off you.”

“You want me naked?” Maria asked, a wicked light of anticipation bursting in her eyes when she pulled away. “Right here? Where any Orlesian ponce could-”

He spun her around impatiently, her breathless laughter racketing off the high ceiling. His fingers dropped to the laces, deftly tugging them loose while he nosed through the soft hair hiding her ear. When he found it, he dropped his voice to a rasp.

“I’ve been dealing with the very worst of Orlais all night, Princess. Right now, all I want is this dress on the ground, my ass in that fine, upholstered chair, and you underneath that desk.”

He felt the hitch in her breath, the sudden crackle of electricity between his skin and hers. He waited a beat. One more. Her eyes were fixed on the door, but when he moved to continue to unlace her dress she leaned back into his touch.

“And after?” She teased, tipping her head to the side to give him free access to the sensitive skin of her neck. “Do I get to be on top of the desk? Or in the chair?”

He nipped at the tempting column of skin, feeling her pulse thudding unevenly beneath his teeth while the dress sagged free of her form. He released his hold on the fabric and it fell in waves, revealing it had been the _only_ thing keeping those fine tits covered.

He wrapped his thick arms around her waist and pulled her flush to his chest, grinding against the silk smalls covering her ass while he trailed bruising kisses back up to her ear. His breath ghosted over her soft skin and made her shiver in his arms.

“Depends on how good _you_ are, doesn’t it?”

He didn’t usually take command like this, but judging by the way Maria melted against him… He swore he could smell her desire in the air already, strong and sweet. It made his mouth water, and he’d certainly be savoring it before they rejoined this damn party, but first…

First, he was taking _his_ reward.

His hands wandered up the slope of her abdomen before cupping the heavy breasts finally freed for his perusal. He groaned into her shoulder, the weight of them damn near perfection, the pert nipples hard against his palms already. She hissed when he pinched them lightly, pressing her ass firmly back against the prominent bulge in his pants.

“Varric.” She groaned, letting her head fall back on his shoulder. “Someone could walk in and see me like this.”

And Andraste’s ass, that _shouldn’t_ make him harder. His breath stuttered to a stop in his throat, imagining the look on some blighted Guild representative or a nosey servant when they walked in and saw _his_ hands on _his_ Maria. She was already wiggling in his grip, desperately grinding again to get some sort of relief.

Relief he’d grant. Eventually.

“I wouldn’t mind letting them look.” Varric breathed. “What about you, Princess?”

She swallowed, hard, and pressed her thighs tightly together. Varric smirked. That would be worth exploring. _Later_.

He reluctantly released her breasts and dragged her backwards toward the desk. It only took them moments to reach it. The second they did, he spun Maria back around and pressed her lips to his in an absolutely filthy kiss, one with far too much teeth and tongue to be anything remotely romantic. This was passion, this was _sin_ , just the way she’d looked all damn night in that dress. Her hair was mused, her lips slick when he pulled away. Her eyes were the kind of stormy that _promised_ he was going to enjoy this and that made him throb painfully in his pants.

“And what do good girls do, Varric?” Maria asked, playing with the waistband of her smalls, rolling it between her fingers. He caught her wrist, pulling it away with a smirk.

“Not yet. You should probably get on your knees and earn this clever tongue where you want it. It’s _exhausted_ from-”

“Entertaining Orlesians.” Maria rolled her eyes to the sky and dropped to her knees in the same movement, a grin tugging her lips up on just one side. “I _know_.”

He meant to keep complaining, he really did, but the sight of Maria on her knees before him knocked all the air from his lungs. He traced the sweep of her lashes, catalogued the freckles over her nose.

She wasn’t just sex on legs, she was _beautiful_. And more beautiful every damn time he saw her. Which was… not in the plan. At all.

It didn’t stop him from tenderly brushing her hair behind her ear. “You take my breath away, Princess.”

The heat behind her shimmering eyes didn’t vanish, but the tip of her smile became softer. Almost uncertain. Then, in a flash, her cocky grin was back and she was lifting one brow. Nimble fingers plucked at the laces of his trousers.

“And now you get to take away mine?” She asked, all fire and smoke and _danger_.

And Maker’s ass, he’d never wanted to be burned more.

With a slow grin of his own he pulled away and settled in the luxurious desk chair, fit for an empress' ass he supposed, reaching down to free his aching cock from his pants. Maria reacted impatiently, tugging the fabricr down his thighs further.

Varric stroked his cock with one hand, letting the warm want course through his veins. When Maria settled herself between his splayed thighs and leaned forward he reached out to tangle one hand in her hair, holding her still.

“Eager, beautiful?” He rasped.

Her pretty little tongue darted out to lick her bottom lip, eyes on his hand while it moved slowly up and down. Finally, she swallowed and shot him an aggrieved look.

“You gonna do all the work for me, Varric?” She asked breathlessly. Varric chuckled, loosening his hold.

“Get to it, then.”

The wicked glint in her eyes could kill a man on it’s own. She leaned in, her breath hot on his cock, making it twitch and throb. She dragged the flat of her tongue up the length of it and Varric had to bite back a moan. Particularly when she flicked that talented appendage over the tip, tasting the drop of precum beading there.

“That’s it.” He encouraged, spreading his legs further. “Just like that, Princess.”

She didn’t bother answering, but she didn’t need to. He could almost see her pulse pounding in her neck, feel the heated desire rolling off her in waves. She shifted on her knees, squirming already, and Varric loved the sight of her at his feet almost as much as he loved her.

 _Maker help him, he loved her_.

Then she took his cock in between those delightful lips and all other thoughts fled.

His fist tightened in her hair, guiding her further onto his cock. His eyes were glued to the way her lips spread wide over his girth, stretching that little mouth to the limit. His Maria was never one to turn down a challenge, in fact she seemed to relish it. Slowly but surely she took _all_ of him into her mouth until her nose brushed the hair at it’s base.

Then her stunning eyes flicked up, sparkling with triumph, as if to say ‘hah!’ It was the same exact look she had when she beat him at Wicked Grace.

And yes, there she was _indeed_ taking his breath away, but also… this was _his_ game to win tonight.

“Good start, Princess.” It was a battle to keep his voice steady, especially when she made a small hum of indignation around his cock. “But I know you can do better.”

He pulled her back slowly by her hair, watching his glistening length slide free of her mouth. Her eyes narrowed and she hollowed her cheeks, applying slick pressure to the sensitive head that almost had him seeing stars.

“Better.” He muttered breathlessly. “That’s what I’m looking for if you want up on this desk later.”

She made to pull off, but he tightened his hold, lifting an eyebrow in challenge. “Giving up?”

She pressed forward suddenly, engulfing him again in searing heat that made him moan and drop his head back against the chair. She bobbed her head, her small fingers digging into his thigh, free hand caressing the slick skin when she focused her attention on the sensitive skin of the tip.

Maker’s _ass_ , he wouldn’t last if she kept this up.

He’d barely had that thought before the sound of a door being thunderously flung open registered through the roaring blood in his ears. Maria froze, his hand in her hair, her fingers and mouth around his cock, wrenching her eyes up to his.

He met hers for a moment before a booming voice called out. “Varric! We were just coming to rescue you!”

Then, a softer one, with a sultry little curl of amusement in the end. “Hiding in here from your adoring fans?”

Of all the people who could walk in, it would be Keaton _fucking_ Hawke and Olivia _maker damned_ Trevelyan. Varric pulled his gaze reluctantly from the vision between his legs to the humans in the door.

“Lilitu and Bull are about to arm wrestle. Figured you’d want to take bets.” Keaton’s eyes lit on Varric’s unbuttoned shirt, his unraveling ponytail, the rapid rise and fall of his chest. “Unless there’s another sort of wrestling going on in here…”

“Oh there’s certainly _something_ going down in here.” Olivia purred, her own stylish shoe toeing the discarded gown. “Or _someone_.”

Maria chose that moment to drag her tongue around his length and Varric almost broke right there, torn between the urge to fuck his own pretty little conquest or _murder_ the two humans interupting.

“Private party.” Varric hissed. “Nobody over five feet tall. _Out_.”

Olivia giggled. Keaton had the audacity to look wounded. “Varric. You’d host a party without your-”

“I will shave your beard and write a story about your girlfriend _burning_ it off in a fit of pique that’ll be the ballad of the age if you’re not out in _five_ seconds.”

Keaton roared with laughter and Olivia cackled. Maria bobbed experimentally on his cock, teasing him, and he felt his sanity crack and buckle around him.

Olivia, thank Andraste, pulled Keaton back by the elbow. “And that won’t even be the worst thing to happen if you spoil Maria’s fun.”

“Fair enough.” Keaton sighed, the picture of martyrdom, before cheerfully calling out. “Have a nice time, Maria!”

Olivia cackled. “Don’t feel like you need to answer if your mouth is full!”

The bubble of laughter in Maria’s throat vibrated around his cock and Varric’s hand twitched towards one of the ornate paperweights on the desk just before the door slammed shut.

Maria made to pull off his cock again, but was stopped short by the burning gaze Varric threw down at her. His hips rocked up, threateningly. “You’re just as much a menace as they are.”

She made a half-hearted noise of protest that fooled nobody, eyes widening in faux innocence. Also a difficult look to pull off when she was sucking his cock like a goddamn champion. He’d never been harder in his life.

Like she could sense the way he was unraveling, she devoured him. The glide of her lips, the pressure of her tongue, the way she hollowed her cheeks as if she was trying to suck the very soul from his body… all the while holding his eyes with her own.

He growled, snapping his hips forward in reaction to another teasing flick of her tongue. She stilled, allowing him to take control of their pace, driving into her with one firm grip in that beautiful hair.

“This is what you do to me, Princess.” He rasped, feeling fire ignite in his spine. “Maker’s tits. I’ve never- _Maria_ -”

He groaned her name as the inferno built, white hot pleasure burning on his veins. Tears pricked at the corner of Maria’s eyes while his cock battered into her throat in a pace he was far beyond controlling. Then the thread snapped and he surged forward, holding her to his cock while he exploded. She swallowed the thick ropes of cum greedily, closing her eyes like she was _savoring_ the taste of him.

His hand smoothed the frazzled hair on her head while he panted. Her swollen lips pulled off his softening length, covered in her own spit, and she smirked.

“My turn to pull _your_ hair?” She asked.

Varric chuckled and patted the edge of the desk. “Have a seat, Princess. As soon as I catch my breath, I’m all yours.”

**Author's Note:**

> Fine Dwarven Smut Crafts Direct from Pornzammar can be found at [@TightAssets](https://tightassets.tumblr.com/) and [@cartadwarfwithaheartofgold](https://cartadwarfwithaheartofgold.tumblr.com/) on tumblr!


End file.
